Companion to the 5 Senses Challenge

I forgot all about this thread; probably a good thing for you all, I feel I talk too much nonsense for the most part. Did not think to count the posts in the last few days, hitting the thread like machine gun fire, all high caliber too. Start something D, I'll play.
 
There are some interesting things going on in the world of 5 Senses Challenge right now. Anyone up for picking one of last weeks poems and discussing it more?

I'm very curious about Tzara's last line on ringtone, which gave me the creeps and I don't know if it was supposed to or not
What gave you the creeps about it?

I guess I'd like to know that before I comment further. :rolleyes:



Though you can do that girl thing and just lower your eyelids and your voice and I'll roll over like a Jack Russell terrier, sit up, and bark.

It's kind of what being male is all about.
 
What gave you the creeps about it?

I guess I'd like to know that before I comment further. :rolleyes:



Though you can do that girl thing and just lower your eyelids and your voice and I'll roll over like a Jack Russell terrier, sit up, and bark.

It's kind of what being male is all about.

How low do you want my eyelids?;)

Creepy because the white teeth brought to mind a skull, probably because of the worm references. Intentional?
 
How low do you want my eyelids?;)
I'm sorry. Are you asking at what point I roll over and yip?

I'm already sitting up and begging. Can I please retain some dignity?
Creepy because the white teeth brought to mind a skull, probably because of the worm references. Intentional?
No. Not skull, certainly.

I think I was thinking of how drinking tea stains my teeth.

But if you want to interpret that in a more profound way, I'm open to that.
 
Greenmountaineer - I love the image of the tissue veil in Hormones, 1959.

I had a colleague who would daintily put a napkin on his bald head whenever he ate hot chilli chicken, to absorb the heat. He often forgot to remove the napkin post-lunch and would show up to meetings with his odd chapeau. He also displayed a Cheshire cat grin when called out on it.
 
Greenmountaineer - I love the image of the tissue veil in Hormones, 1959.

I had a colleague who would daintily put a napkin on his bald head whenever he ate hot chilli chicken, to absorb the heat. He often forgot to remove the napkin post-lunch and would show up to meetings with his odd chapeau. He also displayed a Cheshire cat grin when called out on it.

I went to parochial elementary school in the fifties. There were a few crazy nuns back then who insisted that schoolgirls bobby pin a Kleenex on their heads when we were unexpectedly herded into church, and the girls didn't wear hats on that particular schoolday. More than once the children were forced to go to confession, apparently on the whim of the Monsignor. I even remember squares of toilet tissue from the girls' room when there wasn't any Kleenex.

I'm editing a poem about a true event I experienced directly I hope to post on the weekly poem thread that makes this one look like an episode from a light-hearted sitcom by comparison.
 
I went to parochial elementary school in the fifties. There were a few crazy nuns back then who insisted that schoolgirls bobby pin a Kleenex on their heads when we were unexpectedly herded into church, and the girls didn't wear hats on that particular schoolday. More than once the children were forced to go to confession, apparently on the whim of the Monsignor. I even remember squares of toilet tissue from the girls' room when there wasn't any Kleenex.

I'm editing a poem about a true event I experienced directly I hope to post on the weekly poem thread that makes this one look like an episode from a light-hearted sitcom by comparison.

I remember Saturday mornings sitting on the church steps while my friend went to confession. She had to have her head covered or they did the kleenex trick. And years later when I was in her wedding the priest insisted I pretend to take the host, so I'd look like the other bridesmaids, who were Catholic. Crazy!

Eagleyez was raised in a devout Irish Catholic family, went to parochial school and was an altar boy. He has some real horror stories, too. One, where a priest punched him in the gut for spilling wine, is in one of his poems.
 
I think there is better poetry happening almost at will in this thread than half of the stuff that gets posted I am gobsmacked at the abiities of you all. I honestly and sincerely hope that I can get half as good!
 
I think there is better poetry happening almost at will in this thread than half of the stuff that gets posted I am gobsmacked at the abiities of you all. I honestly and sincerely hope that I can get half as good!

"Gobsmacked" is a great word, todski. I hope I read it in poem about a bouncer in Gotham City or some such place someday.
 
Hahaha, I may have to take your advice on that gm.

I have been given a timely spanking by Desejo to edit more so I think the next one won't be out for a while.

Even though it is mediocre poetry it is such an interesting story. I lived through it and I still don't believe half of the shit that happened. the next one I think will de titled "the girl from wristies beach" a play on words as the next suburb over from the infamous "Tavvy" is called Christies Beach. a strange woman that I had to throw out one evening for giving any random guy a hand job on the dance floor, and yet that isn't even the worst of what we went through.

any way back to the thread......
 
Ahem. That would be MADAM Desejo to you, Todski. ;)

In all seriousness, I think you should write it all out - all the stories - in one go, THEN go back and edit them/refine/ trim. Just my opinion of course.
 
Do I get another spanking if I don't use your title :p

I have so many things I want to write about that it is actually starting to revebrate through my brain like a freaking air horn, all day I'm working and have so many random thoughts going on it's crazy. it's no wonder most of the best poets drink.
 
Spock's log, Stardate 66986.3

I had a suspicion your ears are as pointed as your words. Bangarang!
 
Spock's log, Stardate 66986.3 was anything but "dubious and dorky" IMO; highly imaginative and well done. I never thought a poem could be so...

well, logical.
 
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take a bow desejo

I have to agree with green mountaineer. it was a whole lot of imagination to tie that together, and I kinda dig pointy ears as Harryhill suggested. They were the most obscure words I could thing of. I'm glad it challenged you and made you question its validity, welcome to my world every single poem hahaha.

I must apologise for the tripe I posted before it
 
Katie: Fortune Beach, P.E.I is very good. One of your best, I think.
 
Katie: Fortune Beach, P.E.I is very good. One of your best, I think.

Thank you, Desejo. As is most often the case with me, when a poem is connected to be personally it speaks more clearly to others.

This thread is a good boot in the poetic pants but I often find using one or two of the words, pushing it in terms of how I would write if I was without restriction. Makes for some lines I would normally leave out and I guess I will when I move on to editing them more closely if they pass the 'leave 'em alone for a bit' test. Most of them don't. When I come back and I slice them into smithereens.

Sorry.

I like to talk.
 
I was hoping that by allowing the next poet a better emotional and personal link to the poem that we would get something special. Since I have posted a lot of shit, I thought it would be a good way to contribute some good to the thread to counteract my prescence.

miss Katie Jones has hopefully atoned for my grievious affront to literature :)
 
I was hoping that by allowing the next poet a better emotional and personal link to the poem that we would get something special. Since I have posted a lot of shit, I thought it would be a good way to contribute some good to the thread to counteract my prescence.

miss Katie Jones has hopefully atoned for my grievious affront to literature :)

A genuine effort can never be affront to anything or anyone, Todski. :)

I liked your idea. It was interesting to put things in that only I would know fit your criteria.
 
Hey Mr. Remec, props and snaps for One Summer. I was afraid my words were pretty off-the-wall choices, but you made it all work so well.

:rose:
 
Sight: pineapple
Sound: annoying laughter
Scent: burgers
Touch: sponge/spongey
Taste: salt water

"The sun is a pineapple

They say when you drown your life
Flashes before your eyes.
Choking on sea water, struggling
To rise to the surface

The lap of the waves around me
Ridiculing my vain attempts to live
Like annoying laughter
When you make a fool of yourself
Infuriating, yet warranted

As my head pops to the surface
I try to scream for help.
The smell of burgers
Letting me know help is close,
As water suffocates my cry
Help is not close enough

Desperate now thrashing
Arms turning to lead weights
The struggle
too much
Too hard

I fought as much as I could
A sea sponge floats by
I take hold
cuddle it to my breast
Floating down

The sun pierces the water.
From below it looks like
A pineapple

Sight: a car park empty or full
Sound: fear in a persons voice
Scent: cheap perfume
Touch: something sticky
Taste: gummi bears

You rock, buddy! I said you're a quick study and I'm right. :rose:

edited to add: You're also a natural at this.
 
High praise indeed Angeline, Thanks.

I love this challenge, I am almost more interested in what is coming next than, what I am typing. I have thrown out some strange and hard words to try and push the other poets and they have smashed it.
 
katiejones

Cinnamon Scars

He kept a bag of red
hots in the desk drawer
that whined when it opened.
Not loud
but under her blankets
it seemed a sonic boom
that ripped the silence
like lightening tears
the sky in two-both signals
of danger. Each stair creak
evoked a prayer
to a God she’d long ago
dismissed as deaf. Please.
Please let him go by.

She never wanted
trouble so was still
when her room filled
with the smell of cinnamon
and gas that perfumed
his shirt after a day
at the station where he smiled
at people all day. You're so lucky
dear they'd say.

His touch was never rough
but still it reached through
her skin and squeezed
feelings from her heart
and all thought from her mind.

People tried to help
but when you dismantle humanity
the intangibles are lost
or never fit in their forever
changed home. She lies
and says she’s fine
because that’s a headline
people are willing to read
but somewhere on page twelve
it says time stops the bleeding
but some things never heal.


So damn powerful, this really cuts to the quick. you made the terror and anxiety palpable.
 
Now use Remec's words...above!

hehehe
I know I had walked away from the screen for a moment in the middle of writing, but hadn't realized I'd spent so long that I got jumped in posting...gonna hafta watch out fer dat more.

:cool:
 
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